


in the corners with me

by inlovewithnight



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Background Poly, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4521390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>knees look a little weak, just like when you're in the corners with me ;)</em> -- comment left on Aaron Ekblad's Instagram by Willie Mitchell. (Screenshot <a href="http://36.media.tumblr.com/81fa256aa808c6a384bfde4411b18192/tumblr_nqi43701yS1qimr30o1_500.png">here</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the corners with me

The whole team goes out for Erik’s birthday, and Willie and Aaron get home late, weaving their way up the driveway and giggling to each other as the cab pulls away.

“You’re a cheapskate tipper, kid,” Willie says, slinging his arm around Aaron’s neck.

“I just got confused. The math.” Aaron leans against him, sending them both drifting across the pavement, and they both crack up again.

They reach the door and Willie fumbles with his keys, looking for the fob that disarms the security system. “Quiet when we get inside. Meg’s asleep already. She texted me that she wasn’t going to wait up.”

“She didn’t even leave a light on for us.” Aaron peers through the windows into the foyer. “Not cool.”

“I think we’ll survive.” Willie gets the door open and waves Aaron inside, locking up and re-arming the alarm behind them. “Water?”

Aaron shakes his head, switching on the hallway light and toeing his shoes off. “Nightcap.”

“You’re a bad influence.” Willie switches the light off again and shakes his head at him. “But yes. Scotch all around.”

Aaron leads the way down the hall in the dark, spreading his arms wide to touch both walls. There’s a bar in the den, tucked away along one wall across from the TV and the big, cozy couches. Megan insisted on a room like this, somewhere they could have people over to drink and socialize without feeling formal. It turned out to be even more valuable when Aaron moved in.

It’s where they both kissed him the first time, separately, then where they both kissed him the first time _together_. Good memories in this room.

Aaron stops behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it and watching as Willie goes to the bar and gets the scotch. He’s been trying to learn to appreciate good booze, or rather Willie’s been trying to teach him, but he’s a kid and at the end of the day he just wants to get drunker, faster. They argue about it the way they argue about things that aren’t hockey, as an excuse to spar. Playing.

Willie places the glasses on the bar and raises an eyebrow at him. “Waiting for something?”

“Aww.” Aaron crosses the room to him, weaving in a way that Willie can tell is exaggerated. Kid wants to play. “You can’t help a buddy out?”

“You need help?” Willie switches the glasses back and forth like he’s playing that which-cup-has-the-prize game, except there’s only two of them and they’re both full. “I guess I could help.” He pushes a glass toward Aaron. “But drink first.”

Aaron doesn’t have to be told twice. He closes his eyes and drinks slowly, and Willie’s eyes linger on his throat, the way it moves with each swallow. 

“This is good stuff, Aaron,” he says. “You’re supposed to sip it, not chug it.”  
“Yeah, yeah.” Aaron grins at him and Willie shakes his head, taking a sip of his own and letting it linger on his tongue.

“You’re a brat sent to test me in my old age,” he says finally.

“Mitchie.” Aaron steps closer. “You know I—”

Willie took another drink, then sets his glass down and meets Aaron halfway, moving into his space easily, body to body, muscling him back into the corner. Aaron laughs, loud and bright with delight, then claps his hand over his mouth and looks up at the ceiling. “Whoops.”

“She’ll sleep through it.” Willie nudges him back further, until his shoulders hit the wall. “Meg sleeps like a log.”

“We could go wake her up,” Aaron says hopefully. 

Willie catches Aaron’s wrists and guiding them up until he can pin them to the wall over Aaron’s head. “I’m not enough for you, rookie?”

“Oh.” Aaron exhales in a soft huff. “You’re… you’re fine. Good.”

“Thanks.” Willie kisses him before he has a chance to say anything else dumb, tasting the whiskey on his tongue. Aaron always opens up so eagerly for a kiss, melting into it. He’s _easy_ , and Willie loves it, loves guiding him through it like they’re out on the ice.

“Keep your hands there,” he says softly, pulling back and running his own hands down Aaron’s body, tracing his arms and sides to his hips before finding the fly of his pants. Aaron huffs again, holding his position as he was told while Willie undoes the button and zipper. Aaron’s dick is half-hard under his boxer-briefs, pushing at the fabric, and Willie rubs the heel of his hand against it slowly, glancing up at Aaron’s face. He’s flushed, from drinking and arousal, sweat gathering along his hairline, his eyes half-closed and his teeth worrying at his lower lip. Willie knows he’ll bite down on it soon, trying to keep quiet even though it doesn’t matter. Aaron tries so hard to be good, no matter what.

Willie kisses him again, slowly, keeping it light, not letting Aaron draw him into a deeper kiss no matter how he tries. The little frustrated noises Aaron makes are encouragement, proof that he’s doing this right, and anyway he knows how to make them stop. He can change them into something better with what he does now, slipping his hand into Aaron’s underwear and wrapping it loosely around his cock.

“Don’t move,” he says as Aaron’s hips jerk and he tries to step into the touch, away from the wall. “C’mon, now. Stay where I put you.”

Aaron’s voice is a rough whine. “But I want—”

“I know you want.” Willie squeezes gently and Aaron gasps, his eyes closing again. Willie loves doing this, guiding him up toward the edge and back, fondling him slowly and timing every change in contact to his breathing. Aaron can’t hide anything, can’t stop reacting, and it’s gorgeous. 

“You’re so good,” Willie says, keeping his voice low. He leans in closer and turns his head so he’s speaking right into Aaron’s ear, breathing hot against the curve of his jaw and his neck. “You know that? You know how good you are?”

“C-could be better.” Aaron’s hips jerk again and Willie draws his hand back to rub at the base of Aaron’s dick where it meets his stomach, pressing his thumb against the coarse hair and hot skin.

“Be patient,” Willie says. It’s half a warning, and Aaron squeezes his eyes more tightly shut, his breath hitching. Willie waits another moment, pressing down harder, then slides his hand down and back to cup his balls.

Aaron turns his head this time, finding Willie’s mouth and kissing him clumsily. Willie lets him, rubbing slowly and then pressing his fingers at the base of Aaron’s balls, almost back to his opening, increasing the pressure until he gasps. Then he eases off and rubs again, waiting for Aaron’s pulse to slow and letting his hand move back to the hard curve of his cock. He teases that, running his palm over its length and teasing the wet tip before moving down to the base again. Aaron’s breathing is developing a definite whine, and Willie pulls away from the kiss, catching at Aaron’s lower lip with his teeth.

“You want more?” he asks. Aaron nods, flushed and desperate, and Willie draws his hand out of his wet boxer-briefs, letting the elastic snap at his stomach.

“Knees,” he prompts, pushing down on Aaron’s shoulder. “C’mon. I know you haven’t wrecked them yet, so get on ‘em.”

Aaron sinks down, looking up at him intently. Aaron always wants to be a step ahead, to know what’s expected and what he can do to be perfect. Sometimes Willie likes to surprise him, to keep him guessing, but tonight he’s buzzed and feels good and Aaron just looks so good, waiting there. Willie holds his eyes and reaches down to open up his own pants, rubbing himself slowly through his boxers.

Aaron licks his lips, his gaze dropping to watch Willie’s hand. “Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

He leans in and mouths at Willie through the fabric, with just enough pressure from his teeth at first that Willie’s breath catches in warning. “Behave,” he says, running his fingers through Aaron’s hair. The top is long enough to tug at, but he doesn’t yet. He can see how Aaron tenses every time it seems like he might, and that’s good for now, making him anticipate.

The fabric is getting wet and heavy from Aaron’s mouth, and starting to cling to Willie’s skin. He takes a breath and pushes Aaron back a little, enough to guide his dick up and over the waistband. Aaron licks his lips again, moving toward it, and Willie holds him back just another moment, rubbing himself against Aaron’s cheek.

“I want to,” Aaron says, looking up at him again, and he’s so sweet like this, so unguarded, Willie can’t wait any more.

He lets Aaron take him in his mouth and braces his hands against the wall, looking down to watch Aaron’s mouth on him. Aaron always starts off slow, taking his time getting into it; Willie doesn’t know if it’s teasing or just taking this as seriously as he takes everything else, and he doesn’t particularly care. It works for him.

He pushes deeper into Aaron’s mouth, curling his fingers against the wall as Aaron closes his eyes and takes him in, his tongue working against the hard flesh. “Good boy,” Willie says, biting back a groan. “God, you’re so good.”

Aaron pulls off for a beat and takes a breath, stroking Willie slowly and spreading hot spit over his skin. “You feel good,” he says, his voice rough. “I like it.”

“I know you do.” Willie moves his hand to the back of Aaron’s head, guiding him in again. Aaron goes, quick and eager, bobbing his head slowly to taste Willie all along his length. Willie loves to watch him, how serious he is, how _careful_. Aaron can loosen up and laugh about sex most of the time, but sucking cock is something he comes at with his full attention.

Willie slides his hand down Aaron’s cheek and presses his thumb at the corner of his mouth, where it’s stretched tight around him. He traces the line where skin meets skin, back and forth, rubbing the bit of spit leaking free there between them for extra slickness. Aaron pushes back against the pressure with his tongue, then gags, pulling off again and blinking tears from his eyes.

“Easy,” Willie soothes him, brushing his hair off his forehead. “Done?”

Aaron shakes his head, taking a rough breath. “I can finish.”

“Okay.” Willie wraps his hand around himself, squeezing at the base and then stroking slowly, keeping himself on-edge while Aaron gets himself back together. This isn’t something to tease Aaron about, and he doesn’t want to. It’s theirs, and it’s more important than that.

Aaron square his shoulders and nods, a familiar competitive set coming to his jaw. Willie pets him again and guides himself into his mouth, watching his eyes flutter closed. “Good,” he murmurs, “good.” Aaron presses his tongue against the underside of his cock, then swallows around him, and Willie lets go, coming deep in Aaron’s mouth and catching himself on the wall again.

There’s a moment where they’re both catching their breath, before Aaron moves, shifting his weight and pushing his boxer-briefs down his thighs. “Can I—”

“Yeah,” Willie says, nodding and stepping back so he has a better view. “Yeah, go ahead. I want to see you.”

Aaron wraps his hand around his cock and strokes himself roughly. Willie sometimes wants to tell him to slow down and draw things out, to _enjoy_ himself a little, damn, rookie. But tonight he lets Aaron have his way. If fast and rough is how he wants it, then he can have it, and make a mess all over his hand and the tight-stretched material around his thighs.

“Lick it up,” Willie says, nudging Aaron’s shoulder with his knee. “I want to see that, too.”

Aaron laughs a little, breathless, and brings his hand to his mouth, licking his palm and fingers clean with slow, clumsy strokes of his tongue. “Didn’t get any on the floor,” he says, glancing up. “Good job for that, eh?”

“I kind of like making you lick the floor,” Willie says, and Aaron blushes bright red, ducking his head again. Willie laughs and takes him by the arm, tugging him to his feet. Aaron sways and braces himself against Willie’s body for balance, and Willie lets him, reaching for the half-empty glass of whiskey on the bar and finishing it in one long swallow.

“Now who’s chugging it?” Aaron asks. “We should have another round.”

“No,” Willie says firmly. “We should go to bed. We’ve still got to skate tomorrow.”

“I can take it.”

“I know you can. You’re a monster.” Willie nudges him toward the stairs. “But I’m old, and I’m going to bed.”

Aaron looks at him, eyebrows raised. “Am I sleeping upstairs tonight?”

Upstairs, in the big bed, in the middle; Willie flicks through their half-joking euphemisms in his head and settles on the honest answer. “Yeah, kid. We’re all sleeping together. Come on.”

Aaron takes his hand on the way up the stairs, and Willie doesn’t even care if it’s because he’s drunk. It doesn’t matter. He wants to, and Willie wants to hold on, too, as long as they can.


End file.
